


Choice

by trekkiepirate



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, M/M, No Alice hate allowed here, This was very cathartic to write, basically this is my hope for how the current storyline turns out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 08:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trekkiepirate/pseuds/trekkiepirate
Summary: Eliot had a revelation while is his Happy Place. Quentin was not privy to this revelation. After Eliot confesses his love, they talk about that fact.





	Choice

“You never- you didn't- how was I supposed to know?” Quentin was on the verge of tears and Eliot is getting real tired of being the one to put that expression on his face.

“What did you think peaches and plums, proof of concept meant?”

Quentin ran a hand through his hair. “Something only the real Eliot would know. Something he'd never have told anyone.” Quentin looked away. “Something you knew I could never, ever forget.”

“You sure seem to have forgotten just fine,” Eliot can't keep the poison from his voice.

“Only because you refused to remember,” Quentin matched him vitriol for vitriol. “And Alice, Alice was here and you were-”

Of course Quentin would get back together with Alice. He'd forgiven her for all the abuse she put him through while she was a niffin. A little thing like destroying the magic keys that they'd all worked so hard (so hard and so long) to get would just be a blip in the epic Quentin and Alice romance.

Just like fifty years with Eliot had been. Like their whole family in Fillory had been. Distraction. Something to do until Quentin could get back to Alice.

Eliot feels like he's gonna be sick. Like he needs to vomit up the hope and bravery he'd collected in his mind palace. Eject those now useless feelings.

“You said you wouldn't choose me,” Quentin said, voice somehow even more sad than on the worst day of Eliot's life. The day Eliot had been too chickenshit to tell Quentin how he felt.

Well this time Eliot had been brave and it had all blown up in his fucking face. Like always. The more things change, the more they never fucking change.

“And you wouldn't choose me,” Eliot nodded. “Looks like I was right the first time. Score one for pessimism.” He turned away so Quentin wouldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. “You and Alice go off and live the most picture perfect life you can, okay? Send me an e-vite to the wedding.”

“Eliot,” Quentin's voice was commanding. “Turn the fuck around and look at me.”

Doing as he was bid, Eliot steeled himself. “I was too late. I get it, Q. Let me leave with the single scrap of dignity I have left.”

“No.”

Eliot felt anger, familiar as his heartbeat, rise. “No? Who the fuck are you to say no? I gave you my fucking heart and you just tap danced all over it.”

Quentin's face was fierce. “Ditto.” He exhaled heavily, as if he'd been running. “I felt this. This 'who the fuck are you to tell me what I should do?' Feel. Want. Especially after a goddamn lifetime of proof of fucking concept. I love you, Eliot. I still do. So if you mean this-” Quentin's chest heaved. “-If you really, really mean this? Then I am all in. With you. I will go find Alice right now and break her heart like the asshole I am, but I am not going to put her or myself through that if you're just going to take it all back again.”

“You,” Eliot stared, “what?”

“You told me we wouldn't choose each other here in this life, in this world. But you've chosen me.” Quentin spread his arms. “This is me choosing you.”

Eliot felt like he couldn't breathe. “Over Alice?”

Quentin nodded. “Over Alice. You and me are what I want more than anything in the world. Even more than Alice and me. I love you both, but I will and I have always chosen you first. Let me do it again. But I swear to god, El, if this isn't it for you- if you think there's someone better-”

“-Not possible,” Eliot said, no hesitation. “But... when we became kings and queens, I promised Alice. I promised I'd never do this to her. Not again.”

“I know.” Quentin's face softened. “But she doesn't deserve to be a consolation prize. And if I know that I could have had a chance with you, a real chance, that's all she's is anymore. She deserves so fucking much more than me, anyway.”

“She does,” Eliot nodded. “I'll go with you. When you talk to her.”

Quentin winced. “That's probably a terrible idea.”

“Which are the only kind of ideas we ever seem to have,” Eliot quipped.

Quentin's lips twitched, like he wanted to smile but knew this wasn't the time for it. “You're sure? Not just about- you're completely sure you want you and me to-”

Eliot reached out and took Quentin's flailing hand. “Yes. I am. You're sure?”

“Completely,” Quentin sighed but held Eliot's hand tighter. “This is going to fucking suck.”

“It very much will.”

“I'm glad you'll be with me.”

“Always. Peaches and-” Eliot left the words hanging.

“-Plums, motherfucker,” Quentin smiled. A sad one, tinged with past and future pain, but in his eyes there was hope and, now that Eliot knew what it looked like, love. It was a start.


End file.
